


Anything you left behind, became my everything

by catartstrophy



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Boyfriends, Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Flashbacks, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Mind Manipulation, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-22 10:21:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30037197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catartstrophy/pseuds/catartstrophy
Summary: After the events, that happened on the helicarrier, Steve feels the need to find Bucky Barnes.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	Anything you left behind, became my everything

So many memories flooded the Soldier’s head, but he couldn’t place them. Whose memories were those? An older man in a suit came into the room.  
“Mission report,” he said. When the Soldier didn’t respond, he almost shouted the order, “Mission report now!”  
The soldier did not want to answer that. They were lying to him, they must have. He knew the blonde man, Brooklyn, something about Brooklyn came to his mind, but he could not get a grasp of it.  
The punch from the older man threw him back to reality, making him frown.  
“The man on the bridge.”, that blonde man shouting ‘Bucky‘ at him flew through his broken mind. “Who was he?”  
Man in the suit looked at him: “You met him earlier this week on another assignment.”  
The soldier did not trust that: “I knew him.” Other memories, scenes came to his mind. Music, dancing, people, foreign faces smiling at him, someone who looked like the blond man, but smaller, thinner.  
The older man took the chair and sat down: “Your work has been a gift to mankind. You shaped the century, and I need you to do it one more time.”  
The soldier gave him an untrusting look and frowned a little bit more, a wrinkle forming between his eyebrows, but the man in the suit continued.  
“Society is at a tipping point between order and chaos. And tomorrow morning, we’re going to give it a push. But, if you don’t do your part, I can’t do mine.”  
The soldier put his gaze down and tried to suppress all the foreign memories crawling in his head, pushing at everything they could find, it nearly hurt.  
“And Hydra can’t give the world the freedom it deserves.” Finished the older man.  
The soldier grimaced, pushing memories away: “But I knew him.”  
The other man was thinking and puckered his lips. Then he got up: “Prep him,” he commanded.  
The soldier flinched a bit, he knew that the pain comes after these words. He wanted to scream, but he...he just couldn’t.  
“He’s been out of cryo freeze too long,” a new figure came to his view, a brown-haired man with a bow.  
“Then wipe him and start over,” answered the older man in the suit. Soldier knitted his brows further together and felt the sudden urge to cry. Bucky, who is Bucky? Who is the man he knew? It was all foggy, like in a dream.  
Two hands pushed him into the chair, Soldier’s breath shuddered and quickened. But he had to listen to the orders, he opened his mouth for the piece of plastic, biting down hard. Bucky, Bucky. The metal armrests closed around his biceps. He squeezed his eyes closed and breathed deeply, his chest coming rapidly up and down. Metal arms closed around his head. Bucky, Who the hell is Bucky. I am Bucky I AM BUCKY. This flew through his mind before the strong sharp pain took his mind away. He screamed out in pain, sharply biting down on the plastic.

Steve stood on the bridge and looked to the distance. Bucky was alive, he did not remember him. How is any of this possible? The memory spontaneously drifted on his mind.  
“We looked for you after. My folks wanted to give you a ride to the cemetery.” Buck followed him up the wooden stair to his rundown flat.  
“I know, I’m sorry. I just kind of wanted to be alone,” he answered, hands shoved to the pockets.  
“How was it?”  
“It was okay,” Steve lied. “She’s next to dad.” He brushed the longer hair out of his face.  
“I was gonna ask…”  
“I know what you’re gonna say, Buck. I just...” The brown-haired man smiled because of course; Steve knew what he was going to ask him. The blonde man pats his pockets for the keys.  
“We can put the couch cushions on the floor like when we were kids. It’ll be fun. All you got to do is shine my shoes, maybe take out the trash.” Buck said, a nostalgic smile in his voice. Steve always loved, how he tried to make every bad situation bearable. Steve still could not find the keys, so Bucky moved the stone near the door and took the secret key underneath it.  
“Come on.” He said as he was handing it to Steve. He took it and licked his lips, he could not rely on Bucky with everything, could he?  
“Thank you, Buck, but I can get by on my own.”  
Buck looked a little bit sad by now: “The thing is… you don’t have to.” He looked directly into Steve’s eyes and clenched his jaw the way he always did. Then he put his arm on Steve’s shoulder.  
“I’m with you to the end of the line, pal,” he said. Eyes still locked with Steve’s. The smaller man smiled and looked down.  
“He’s gonna be there, you know.” Sam approached him.  
“I know.”  
“Look, whoever he used to be and the guy he is now, I don’t think he’s the kind you save. He’s the kind you stop.”  
But Steve knew he can get him back. His oldest friend, lover. It is not Buck’s fault that Hydra got a hold of him. If that’s anyone’s fault, it is Steve’s - he let him fall off that train.  
“I don’t know if I can do that.” Steve wasn’t looking at Sam.  
“Well, he might not give you a choice. He doesn’t know you.” Sam stood his ground.  
“He will.” Steve finally glanced at Sam: “Gear up. It’s time.” he said, Buck on his mind.

Sam took Steve back to the helicarrier.  
“You know, you’re a lot heavier than you look.” Sam joked.  
“I had a big breakfast,” Steve answered just as he passed one of the metal crates.  
Bucky had been crouched behind it and as he saw Steve, he pushed him over the side of the helicarrier.  
“Steve!” Sam cried out and quickly flew for him. But Bucky caught his wing and sent him flying the other way. Sam took out his pistols, whose bullets Bucky seamlessly avoided as he hid behind a metal gun. Sam left him and tried to fly away to find Captain, but The Winter Soldier caught his wing with a grapple hook mid-air and yanked him on the ground of the ship. Sam crashlanded hard and The Soldier tore his wing off. As he stood up, he was kicked out of the ship, falling with only one wing. He managed to take out his parachute at the last moment.  
Steve was crawling back to the deck from the wing where he caught himself.  
“Cap! Cap, come in. Are you okay?” Sam’s voice came from the transmitter.  
“Yeah, I’m here. I’m still on the helicarrier.” He swung up to the middle deck. “Where are you?”  
“I’m grounded,” came the answer. “The suit’s down. Sorry, cap.”  
“Don’t worry. I got it.” Steve breathed out quickly.  
He climbed up until he got onto the bridge leading to the hardware, in which he had to plug in the chip. He stopped, at the other side of the bridge stood Bucky. Looking at him, with murderous intent.  
“People are gonna die, Buck.” Neither of them moved a muscle. “I can’t let that happen.” Bucky watched him; he did not see any of the uncertainty he saw there the last time. “Please don’t make me do this.” But Buck’s face remained blank.  
Steve grunted and quickly threw a shield at him, which Bucky bounced back with his hand. Cap caught it just in time to block Bucky’s bullets. As they changed positions quickly, one of the bullets scraped him on his side, but then he knocked Buck back. He stood up and pulled out a dagger. They punched each other for a while until there was a small window for Steve to put in the code to lock the hardware. 1452, he typed in. But he quickly had to turn around to face another salvo of Bucky’s attacks. It was a very balanced fight until Bucky ran on Steve and sent them both flying over the fence, Steve’s shield falling out of his hand in mid-air. They fought some more until the chip fell to the lower deck. Steve jumped down to get it. But Buck was on his heels. Steve fell and grabbed the shield to cover himself before Bucky’s bullets once again. Then he threw the shield at Buck, but he reflected it, this time away from them both. Bucky was at him in the blink of the eye, swinging his dagger at him. He managed to pierce Steve’s shoulder before throwing him away and taking the chip. But Steve quickly grabbed him around his neck and put him in the air. Then he threw him down on the floor, his non-metal hand holding the chip firmly. One hand under Bucky’s bicep and the other one pushing his head. In this position, it would take little effort to dislocate Buck’s shoulder.  
“Drop it!” Steve screamed, not wanting to harm Buck. “Drop it!” he repeated. But Buck made a wrong move and Steve heard a crunch, Bucky still didn’t drop the chip. Steve quickly re-grabbed him, choking him on the ground from behind. He trapped his other arm under his knee. It pained Steve to hurt Bucky so much. Why can’t he drop that stupid chip?! Bucky tried to catch his breath and squirm out of Steve’s arms. But after some struggling, he went limp and the chip fell out of his hand. Steve quickly stopped the pressure on his windpipe and took the chip. He climbed back to the hardware centre, but as he was approaching it, Bucky shot him in the leg. Steve tried to get the job done, he jumped up, Bucky shot him again, this time in his shoulder.  
Steve managed to crawl up to the hardware.  
“30 seconds cap,” said a voice from his transmitter.  
“Stand by.” Steve was very weak, and he clutched his wounds. But he wouldn’t be Captain America if he couldn’t stick the chip to the motherboard. He was so close, but Bucky shot him again. Steve collapsed to the ground; the bullet came through him from the back to his belly.  
The three helicarriers were on the Shields radars.  
“Fire now,” Steve said to his transmitter.  
“But Steve...” Hill argued.  
“Do it!” Steve grunted as he felt his blood leaving him. “Do it now!”  
Maria gave the right command and the guns started shooting, destroying the helicarrier completely.  
Steve stood up, still clutching his belly. And he saw Bucky, trapped beneath a big metal construction, struggling to get out. He jumped down, and immediately regretted it, as everything hurt.  
And he managed to slowly get to the construction weighing Buck down. There was a lot of confusion on Bucky’s face, he surely didn’t know why he was saving him. It hurt, it hurt so much. He was like a wounded animal, wanting to run away from him.  
Steve grunted and tried to lift construction a little bit, to create space for Buck to get out. On the third try, Bucky squirmed out from his trap. Still looking incomprehensibly at the cap.  
“You know me,” Steve said as they were huffing and trying to catch a breath on the ground.  
“No, I don’t,” Bucky shouted and punched him in the shield. They were both stumbling around, as the helicarrier went slowly down.  
“Bucky, you’ve known me your whole life.”  
Bucky’s face looked puzzled.

What did the blond man with the shield talk about? He swung his non-metal arm at him. And they both fell to the ground.  
“Your name is James Buchanan Barnes.” The blonde man said, standing up once again, breathing hard. The soldier’s head started to buzz.  
“Shut up!” he shouted and sent a man with a shield back to the ground. Yet he stood up once again and took off his helmet.  
“I’m not gonna fight you.” The blonde man said and dropped his shield. His protection, his weapon, the only weapon against him. “You’re my friend.” The soldier’s head hurt like it was gonna split, memories were flying around, the blonde man smiling, a foreign squad of people on the photograph with him. Something in his chest hurt too. He ran and tackled the other man.  
“You…are…my...mission,” Soldier huffed and punched the unknown blonde man across the face. “You…are….my...mission!” He shouted between the punches. He held his arm again and felt a sudden urge to cry. The man underneath him has a beaten face; his right eye completely shut because of the blood.  
“Then finish it,” he said calmly. The soldier hesitated, panting. The blond man crying in some rundown small room, smiling at him in some unknown side street, laughing with him in front of the cinema, kissing him…  
“Because I’m with you to the end of the line.” the blonde man said quietly. The soldier felt tears in his eyes. What…what does it mean. The quote, he can feel it on his own lips. As if it was him saying it. It looked like the blonde man was crying. They looked into each other’s eyes. The soldier put the hand down just as the deck broke under them. He managed to catch onto some pillar, but the blonde man was falling into the river. Bucky was watching him until he hit the water surface.  
He felt hot tears on his cheeks. What the fuck? He said to himself as he let go of the pillar, falling behind the blonde-haired man, who he had so many memories of. He dived into the water, caught the man’s hand and swam with him on the surface. He was unconscious. Of course, he was. He dragged him onto the riverbank.  
The soldier carefully studied the man’s face. He, fortunately, started to spit out the water, he will be fine. The soldier looked at his face for a while, letting some of the memories setting down in his head. Then he remembers in what situation he is in. He looked around, seeing that nobody was there but that momentary peace wouldn’t last long. He needs to disappear, somewhere far away.

Steve opened his eyes and grunted. Fury was napping next to him on the chair, but opened his eyes, as he heard Steve’s breathing pattern change.  
“Morning, sleeping beauty.”, he said sarcastically. “You almost gave us a heart attack, Rogers. One of the bullet wounds came right through you.”  
“I figured,” Steve tried to laugh, but it came out as a pained moan.  
“I’ll leave you to it… and tell others you’re awake.”, with that, Fury left the room. Steve tried to move his hands, they did move, but sore pain from the wound on his shoulder hurt, his side hurt a little when he took a deeper breath. And the biggest problem was his thigh, the wound there hurt anytime he tried to flex muscles in his leg. He must go after Bucky as soon as possible; he saw the tears in his eyes. Bucky was remembering him. He gave himself three days to recover, the serum in him better work quicker than normally.

Bucky was standing at the fruit market, his cap shoved to his face. He chose an old safe house in Romania. It was located in the quiet area and he hoped it will buy him the time he so desperately needed for regaining his memories, which slowly and painfully came to his broken head.  
He remembered something about Howling Commandos after seeing the Captain America exhibition before he left for Romania. More and more past made it to his notebook of memories.  
He went to the stand and bought some plums, then quickly went back to his house. Buying the hot dog on the road. He took a bite after he closed the entrance door. The taste, it was somehow familiar, his head started buzzing more and his sight blurred.  
Blonde man smiling at him.  
“I love the sea air,” he said, and he squeezed their joint hands, laying on the sand.  
“That’s good, I think that it treats your asthma a little bit,” Buck squeezed back. “We should buy hotdogs.” He added after a short comfortable silence.  
“Sounds good, but… we won’t have money for the ride back.” Blonde man knitted his eyebrows together. Bucky placed his free hand on his cheek and looked into his eyes.  
“Is there a situation I can’t solve for us?” He asked, smiling. Steve looked down at their hands with a smile and shook his head.  
“Come on then!” Said Bucky and tried to stand up, but the smaller man clutched his hand and didn’t let him. Bucky collapsed back to the ground and looked questioningly at the other man.  
Blonde’s eyelashes fluttered and his cheeks went a little pink: “I… I love you, Buck.”  
Bucky’s heart skipped a beat and his face softened, before putting the usual smug mask on: “I know that already, Steve. I love you too.” He pressed his lips on blondes for a while before retreating, standing up and dragging Steve on his feet.  
“Now come on! Hot dogs are waiting.”  
Bucky found himself lying on the floor, plums everywhere around him and a hot dog splashed on the ground next to his hand. The pain in his head became dull. He stood up slowly and rubbed his forehead.  
Bucky, that was his name. He already remembered once. And that blonde-man, Steve, he said it already when they were fighting, he remembered. ‘James Buchanan Barnes‘ he said, lying on the edge of the deck, bleeding because of Bucky.  
Buck rubbed his face. He remembered them eating hotdogs and riding on the back of freezer truck on their way back to Brooklyn because he’d spent their last money winning a stuffed bear for Steve. For his Steve.  
His head started uncomfortably buzzing again. Maybe he should buy some painkillers.

Natasha hurried into the room with Clint on her heels: “You dumbass!” She punched Steve in the shoulder. It hurt.  
“You could have died. Why did you tell Hill to start shooting on the helicarrier while you were still on? Where is Barnes, we can’t find any clues about his whereabouts.”  
“He saved me, Nat,” Steve whispered, looking directly at her.  
“That fucking killing machine saved you? After putting four holes in you and beating you half to death? That’s bullshit.” Clint scoffed.  
“It isn’t. He knows me.”  
“Does he, though?” Clint doubted.  
“You still…like him, don’t you?” Natasha said worryingly. Steve only looked at her, tears in his eyes. Clint went to get the others.  
“Please…Nat. Help me locate him without Fury. I need to get to him before Hydra does.” Steve pleaded, catching Natasha’s hand in his. Nat looked puzzled and opened her mouth, but before she could answer, all the other guys stormed into the room. She gave him a sad smile and nod.

Bucky took five painkillers and hoped that it will be enough for his enhanced body. He took the knife into his hand again and repeated the action of scraping the disgusting red star on his arm. The metal of his arm was, of course, vibranium, so it was almost impossible to scratch it, but the pure action of it brought peace to his troubled mind.  
He became friend with Steve Rogers when he repeatedly saved him from bullies. Steve was smaller, thinner than he is now. Bucky figured that he, also, must have a serum in himself. Steve was nice, candid and did everything with his whole heart, because of this, he was also vulnerable.  
"They'll catch you and worse, they'll take you."  
"Look, I know you don't think I can do this–"  
"This isn't a back alley, Steve. It's war! Why are you so keen to fight? There are so many important jobs."  
Bucky was angry, why would Steve want to go to the war. He was too small, too…precious. He was happy when the army repeatedly denied him.  
“It is nice, that you don’t want me to get hurt,” Steve said, tears in his eyes. “But what will I do if you get hurt. What would I do here, alone? Without you.”  
Bucky looked at him sympathetically and embraced him, he whispered: “I can always take care of myself. And I also manage to take care of you.”  
“I could have your back in the fights, you know.” Steve sobbed as Bucky picked through the short hair on his nape.  
“I know you could, Stevie.”  
There was a sharp sound, that threw Bucky back to reality. He was quickly back on his feet, gun in his hand. A brown-haired middle-aged man stepped into the room, looking around.  
“Hello, Bucky. I know you’re here.”  
Bucky did not know the man. Or did he. He hid behind the couch.  
“Don’t move, I have a gun pointed at you,” he shouted at the man.  
“But you would not use it, would you. I know your past, James Buchanan Barnes, Winter Soldier.” The man grinned. Bucky stepped out from behind the sofa, gun still pointed at the stranger.  
“Who are you?”  
“I’m Helmut Zemo. And I know everything about you, man. Hydra, Sokovia.”  
Bucky’s head started buzzing again, he grabbed his head and let the gun fall on the floor. At that moment, the man took out the taser gun and shot him with one of the bullets. Bucky screamed and went down, his vision going black.

Nat sat on a chair next to his bed.  
“Can I at least come with you?” She asked quietly. Steve smiled at her.  
“Nat, you know I have to do it alone. Anyone else in the room might just disturb him.” He felt a strange warmth in his chest, whenever he was thinking about Bucky remembering him.  
“But you’re just an old sentimental guy, Steve. He will kill you if he wants to.”  
“But he wouldn’t want to. I’m telling you, he remembered me.”  
“And how will you approach him? Hi Bucky, it is me, your old boyfriend Steve, we used to make out in the Brooklyn 80 years ago?” Nat stood up nervously and started pacing around the room.  
“I... don’t know.” Steve chuckled. Natasha gave him sharp look.  
“Promise me, that you won’t go before you’re fully healed.”  
“You know I can’t promise that, Nat.” It wasn’t worth it, lying to Natasha, she always knew.  
“You’re an old fool,” Nat said sadly and patted Steve on the shoulder before leaving.  
“And you’re the best.” Said Steve and he knew Natasha heard him.

When he woke up, he was in some foreign workshop or garage. He was chained to the armchair very tightly. He started to squirm and tried to get out, but the chains did not move an inch.  
“Tell me, Bucky, you’ve seen a great deal. Haven’t you?” some voice came behind him.  
“I don’t wanna talk about it.” That was Bucky’s automatic answer. The man who shot him with a taser came to his sight, carrying the chair. He put the chair in front of him and sat down, facing him.  
“You feel, that if you open your mouth, the horrors might never stop.” Bucky’s head started hurting again, blood on his arms, dead bodies, him shooting from sniper gun, hitting three heads, one after another, intestines flowing out like a bloody waterfall. He must have screamed because Zemo smiled and scribbled something down to his notepad.  
“Don’t worry. We only have to talk about one.” Zemo looked serious now. “Why don’t we discuss your home. Not Romania, certainly not Brooklyn… I mean your real home.”  
“What?” The headache started to be unbearable, shooting pain to his spine, eyes, even shoulders.  
“желаниe,” he said, longing.  
Bucky always longed to go back, to his past. Before he became The Winter Soldier. To the summers in Brooklyn, when he and Steve just mindlessly ran around the city and visited beaches, laid in the sun. It was long before Bucky joined the army.  
“pжавый,” the second word, rusted.  
The facilities he was held in were always rusted, it reminded him of Steve’s run-down apartment back in Brooklyn. It reminded him of his apartment before they wiped his mind for the first time.  
“семнадцать,” seventeen. He was born in 1917. One year before Steve.  
“рассвет,” daybreak.  
Bucky remembered one particular dawn, when he lied next to Steve. And Steve watched him with his caring eyes.  
“Don’t go,” he whispered, as not to break the silence of the incoming day.  
“We already talked about this.” Bucky rolled on his side, as to face Steve. He took his face into his hands. Wiping Steve’s tears with thumbs.  
“What would I do if you get killed, Buck. I would like to help you.” Steve sobbed; his eyes looked deeply into Bucky’s.  
“I know you would,” Bucky embraced Steve, caressing short hair on his nape. He took a deep breath, Steve smelled like home.  
“Печь,” furnace.  
Bucky remembered the burning feeling on his skin when they were waking him up from cryo. It felt like burning alive, it left you wanting to scream.  
“Девять”, nine. Another number from his birth year.  
“Доброкачественные,” benign.  
Gentle, harmless as he was. Before joining the army, but mainly before becoming a Winter soldier. Gentle as he took Steve’s hand. When he beat bullies enough to get away, Steve tugging at his arm to stop, harmless. His unspoken wish, he would like to become benign, no more blood on his hands, not one more dead body on his account.  
He shook his head. “Stop, please,” he whispered under his breath, his head felt like it was going to split open. Zemo only put one corner of his mouth up. Still reading from the diary on his lap.  
“Возвращение домой,” homecoming.  
Proud, he marched, next to Captain America, who saved him. Who came for him, when Hydra did their experiments on him. Steve has gotten broader, more muscular, taller, so much taller. Bucky chuckled and Steve looked at him. His eyes loving and tender, just for him, eyes belonging to the small boy from Brooklyn, not the hero, who just saved him from the enemy hideout.  
“Один,” one. Meaning the first number from his birth year. And the only reason why he was being awakened - to kill. Bucky started to move with his arms and legs and he was trying to get out. He knew that only one more word must be spoken and he will turn into a killing machine.  
“Please stop! Stop!” he cried out. Squirming, but without any results.  
“грузовой вагон,” freight car.  
His fall, Steve calling out his name. Fear, tears, pain. Overwhelming pain, coldness. Something like a bolt flew through his mind, splitting it in half, and from the tear, all the memories flew away.  
“Soldier,” the unknown brown-haired man in command said.  
“Ready to serve,” said Winter Soldier’s mouth on its own.

Steve stood on the Bucharest fruit market, reading newspapers, and looking around. It seemed like no one was following him. He put the newspapers back on the stand and went towards the safe house of Bucky’s which Nat found out, his leg still hurting mildly.  
It was fifteen minutes’ walk and the house looked a little run-down. The last floor said Nat to him while handing him the paper with the address written on it.  
Steve opened the door to the flat. It was small, one room and the door leading to the bathroom, Steve thought. In the big room, there was an old couch, radio, table with plums on it. Did Bucky remember that he liked plums? There was also a small kitchen corner. But Bucky was nowhere to be seen. When he stepped to the window, he saw the gun on the floor and small droplets of blood as he crouched down to inspect the gun. Numb pain shot through his leg, he sometimes forgot about his wound. He heard a click of a firearm’s safety behind him.  
“Stand up, slowly. Hands up.” Said a familiar voice.  
“Buck...” Steve moved too quickly and was shot to the shoulder. The same spot as last time, precise bastard. He stood in the doorframe, looking like death itself. Pale, brown hair messy and all around his face, stubble on his face unkempt.  
“I said slowly!” he demanded. Steve watched him, his eyes full of fear. Did they manage to wipe him again?! He felt anger creeping up his spine and bitter tears in his eyes.  
“Buck, it is me. You remembered, at the helicarrier. You saved me; you know me.” He pleaded.  
Bucky sneered: “Of course I do. You are Captain America, my target.”  
No, no, no. It was not possible. How could this happen, it was only a week from the incident on the helicarrier. From the day Bucky saved him from the river.  
They only stood there, watching each other carefully. Steve remembered the same situation on the bridge week ago. He needed to get Bucky unconscious.  
He threw his shield at Bucky, as a distraction and as Bucky deflected it, he was already behind, kicking surprised Bucky down. It must have been adrenaline because he did not feel his wounds at all. Steve was quick to put his legs around Bucky’s throat and start to choke him. Bucky was tossing around, trying to hit Steve with his fist.  
“Sorry, Buck,” Steve whispered, as he felt Bucky’s movements grow weaker.  
“I smell….” Bucky croaked, catching his breath. “Home.” he shuddered, just before falling unconscious.

He woke up in the apartment bed. He tried to roll around, but felt the chains on him, again. He started to panic and squirmed out of the chains. Again, without results, it was tied very tightly and properly. A blonde man with blue pants, that looked like a costume, and a bandage around his shoulder came to the room.  
“Hey Buck, are you thirsty?” Bucky’s head buzzed again, he squinched his eyes. The blonde man was by his side in a second, putting his hand carefully and slowly on his forehead. Buck looked at him and frowned. The blonde man looked into his eyes full of emotions so strong, that Buck must have looked the other way. The blonde man stood up and came back with the wet towel, which he placed on Bucky’s head.  
“Are you thirsty?” He repeated. It started to hurt behind Bucky’s eyes as memory crawled in.  
“Are you thirsty?” he asked a small blonde man lying in the bed, with the scarf around his neck.  
“No.” Croaked the man. “You should go home, or you’ll also catch a cold.” He brought him the cup nevertheless and sat down on the bed, putting a hand on the blonde’s forehead.  
“You’re burning up.” He said caringly. Small man only smiled before he drifted to his feverish dream.  
“Buck!” He opened his eyes, the other man looked nervous and scared. He smelled like…home. The blonde put the cup to his lips and Bucky was so thirsty, that he drank everything that was in the cup.  
“I am Steve, you did remember me the last time we saw each other. You saved me. You are James Buchanan Barnes, but you hate when somebody calls you other than Bucky.” Blonde said as if he prepared it beforehand. The soldier felt his mind opening and some memories pushed in through the holes. Howling commandos, Brooklyn, hot dogs on the beach, Steve’s lips on his, fight on the helicarrier, saving this man from drowning after he beat him up.  
“S…Steve?” Bucky looked at the blonde man again. He answered with an honest smile, corners of his eyes wrinkling as the smile touched them. But his face suddenly made a pained expression.  
“What did they do to you?” A small tear escaped from his eye. “What did I do to you. I let you fall. I am so sorry, Buck. So much.” Bucky’s head hurt, he remembered the fall, coldness, again. Fear, pain. He screamed. And Steve looked worried, he put his hand on Bucky’s cheek and looked him in the eyes.  
“Does it hurt? Remembering?” he asked. Bucky only nodded his head.  
“I don’t know how long I will be stable. Please leave.” Said Buck quietly, darkly. Steve’s heart fell into his stomach.  
“No, Buck, I am here for you. You will be better, we are…” Steve looked away. “Friends. We know each other for more than anyone. Please don’t push me away.”  
Bucky wasn’t able to answer, his mind went blurry and he fell asleep. Blood, blood everywhere, screaming tore on his ears. He shot down anyone who came his way and when he had not enough bullets, he killed them with the dagger. He remembered everyone, every face he ever killed. It hurt so much. At the end of the dream, it was Steve kneeling in front of him. He held Steve’s heart in his hands and slowly pierced the dagger through it with an inhuman laugh.  
He must have screamed in his sleep because Steve was standing by him, shaking him awake. Bucky felt tears in his eyes.  
“So many, there is just so many.” He cried. Steve looked at him, putting his hand on his forehead again, second hand on his own forehead, measuring temperature.  
“You want to tell me more about it?” he said, caressing Bucky’s cheek and sitting down on the chair next to the bed.  
“I’ve killed so many. And I will kill more if I will be wiped out again. I will kill you if the command comes.” Bucky felt weak.  
“You won’t Buck, you won’t. After you get better, we will get that stupid program out of you okay?”  
“Alright,” Bucky whispered and fell into another feverish dream, another one full of blood.

He felt better after a day spent sleeping in bed. But his whole person was numb from lying in the same position all the time.  
“Do you think you could unchain me?” asked Bucky while Steve was carefully wiping his face with a wet cloth. Steve’s face showed hesitation.  
“Of course, I can, Buck.” He said after a while, leaving to take the keys from the chains. As he got back, he looked into Bucky’s eyes. “Just remember, that you’re stronger than it.” With these words, he unchained him. Bucky sat up and his head hummed for a while, but then it got better.  
“Thanks, Steve.” Bucky was not sure, how close they were now, after all, that happened. So he bit down the need to embrace him and just held his hand awkwardly for a while, before standing up and heading to the bathroom. He turned on the water and stripped down his t-shirt when he heard knocking at the door.  
“Yeah?” he called. Steve put his head in.  
“I just…” he stared at Bucky for a while, then he blushed. “I just, thought you might like some other clothes.” He put it in the hands with folded clothes and put them on the ground.  
“Thanks, Steve,” Bucky said. Steve’s name somehow familiar on his lips.  
He let the water run on his body for longer than it was needed, he also washed his hair. Clothes that Steve prepared for him, where did he take them? Maybe he went to buy it as Buck slept, were plain dark blue sweatpants and a white short-sleeved t-shirt.  
As Buck dressed, he walked back to the living room to find Steve on the couch, with hot tea in his hands. He looked at Bucky and started to stand up. Bucky put his arm on his shoulder and held him down.  
“I can… pour you tea,” Steve said.  
“I don’t want tea, thanks.” Bucky sat on the couch, where Steve had his legs a few moments ago. He felt numb and empty, his heartbeat loudly against his breastbone, he wondered if Steve hears it too. He watched him with the corner of his eye, pretending, he is watching the bird outside of the window. He also caught a glimpse of Steve’s hand between them as in invitation. He glanced at Steve’s face, but he was completely consumed by newspapers he had in his hands.  
His face was so handsome, his long eyelashes, piercing blue eyes, short blonde hair. Almost invisible freckles that were on his cheeks only in the summer. Could he, maybe… he scooted his hand a little bit closer to Steve’s. At that moment Steve turned his head towards him, trapping his eyes in his own, catching his hand with his and the other coming around his shoulders. Bucky breathed in soundly and put his forehead on Steve’s collar bone. He took in the smell.  
“You always smell like home.” Bucky smiled against his skin.  
“I missed you so much.” Steve squeezed him even more in their half sitting, half laying embrace. Bucky put his head up and his lips found Steve’s. Steve made a pained noise as if he was waiting for this the whole lifetime. Maybe he had. They only held their lips pressed together for a while before Steve backed out.  
“I love you, Bucky,” Steve said, caressing his cheek. Bucky pushed back in, opening his mouth for Steve’s tongue. It was more hungry and needy this time and by the time they parted, they were both breathless.  
“I love you too, Steve,” Bucky said and laid his head on Steve's chest, snuggling his head under Steve’s chin. They dosed off to sleep and they knew they were going to be okay.


End file.
